


To the Light

by Youarethelightoftheworld



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Babylock, Domestic Fluff, Fix-It, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Kidlock, M/M, Parentlock, Post-Episode: s04e02 The Lying Detective, The Final Problem does not exist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-16
Updated: 2017-01-16
Packaged: 2018-09-18 00:48:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9356093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Youarethelightoftheworld/pseuds/Youarethelightoftheworld
Summary: John allows himself to get the hell on with it.





	

There is a bottle on Sherlock’s bedside table.

It is past noon, and John stands at the threshold of Sherlock’s bedroom, peering through the open door. Rosie sits in her highchair in the kitchen, gleefully making a mess of her face and hands with the bright orange baby food John has placed in front of her.

Normally, John would hover nearby, carefully wiping her chin as he presents one small spoonful at a time. But this afternoon, as he is reaching for his cup of tea, something catches his eye.

There is an empty baby bottle on Sherlock’s bedside table, leaving a ring on the wooden surface.

John makes a deduction.

  
~~~

  
John and Rosie have been living in 221B since the day John forgave himself for falling out of love with Mary.

If John is honest with himself, it was quite easy to move forward once he realized that Mary had never truly existed in the first place.

But  _Rosie_  - Rosie is a living, breathing reminder that he, John, does exist. That he means something to someone. That his life is not his own.

She will grow up without a mother.

She will grow up with a father whose demons flourish in the darkness - when it feels as though he is all alone in this world. 

And so he brings her home, to the light.

  
~~~

  
It takes John three days to confirm his deduction.

Two evenings in a row, he crawls into bed after midnight, only to wake at 7 am to Rosie’s cries.

On the third evening, he sits in bed with a book in his lap, waiting patiently.

  
~~~

  
There is a bottle on Sherlock’s bedside table.

It is in the quiet space between midnight and dawn, when moonlight dances over the gleaming silver objects that Sherlock has carefully placed out of Rosie’s reach, that John throws off his covers and tiptoes down the stairs.

“Now, Miss Rose, we mustn’t forget to burp this time. I will not allow another one of my dressing gowns to be defeated by your projectile vomiting.”

John, now hovering at Sherlock’s cracked bedroom door, hears his daughter’s response, made of gurgles and sighs.

He pushes the door open.

  
~~~

  
John and Rosie have been sleeping in Sherlock’s bedroom since the day John decided it was about time he got the hell on with it.

There is a baby bottle on Sherlock’s bedside table. There is a cot in the corner, with a child sleeping peacefully under a mobile made of tiny magnifying glasses and stethoscopes.

There are two men under the covers, their smiles bright and their bellies warmed by tea and toast.

There is a family that has finally come home.

Happy and whole, at long last.

 


End file.
